


Born to Run

by visionshadows



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Hockey Player(s), Dogs, Dogsledding, Fluff, M/M, Mushers, Snow, The dogs are named after hockey players and Russian cartoon characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 22:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13820511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/visionshadows/pseuds/visionshadows
Summary: Sid's only wanted the snow, the dogs, and Geno.





	Born to Run

The snow crunches under Sid’s boots, the sky still dark and the stars heavy above. The sun won’t rise for another hour, but by then the dogs will all be fed and ready to go. He can hear Geno in the barn, whistling tunelessly to himself as he gets the sled ready. 

“Hey babies,” Sid murmurs as he scoops a mixture of meat broth and kibble into the first bowl he comes to - Gretzky’s since his house is closest to the barn. “Time to rise and shine.”

A few of the dogs are already out of the houses, whining for their breakfast. Manon is singing. The yearlings are the slowest to wake and Sid reaches into the house to scratch Masha under the chin. “Come on, precious. Time to get up and eat breakfast. You’re going on a run today.”

They all want to run, every last dog, and Sid hates when they have to leave any of them behind. Soon they’re all fed and jumping around on their leads, howling and ready to go. Geno’s got the sled out and packed for today’s run. The Canadian Challenge is three weeks away and Geno’s got to do a hundred miles today. 

They work in unison, getting the booties on the dogs who are running today. The older dogs are a little better at standing still than the younger ones. Flower still dances around like he’s a yearling even though he’s 8 and has been running on Sid and Geno’s teams his whole life. The whole goalie litter is a little crazy. Manon is the only one who can be trusted which is why she’s Geno’s lead dog. 

The sun is just peeking over the trees when the dogs are all hitched to the sled and Geno is ready to go. Manon and Masha are leaping and howling in front.

Geno taps Sid in the chest and they do their handshake. Sid gives him a kiss and Geno slaps him in the ass, making Sid laugh. 

“Love you,” Geno says roughly, one of the first things he’s said that morning. Sid reaches up to pat his face once more with a thick glove. Geno pretends to bite at it. 

“Go on. I’ll see you when you get back.”

Geno grins and pulls up his neck warmer before shouting “let’s go!” The dogs take off with a flying leap and the sled jerks forward. Sid watches them go until he can’t see them any longer. He stamps his feet a few times and then turns back to the dogs left in the yard. There’s work to be done.

 

Sid’s 18 when he meets Geno, shaking hands with him, snowblind from the glacier and half asleep from the time change between Norway and Alaska. It’s Geno’s third summer on the glacier, giving tourists a taste of Alaska without any of the mess. Sid’s not quite sure what he’s doing here. He just knew he wasn’t ready to go home. 

He’s got a team of twenty dogs of his own and he loves each and every one of them immediately. He takes his time getting to know them, feeling them out as best he can even though he’s got to start giving tours the next morning. Geno gives him tips on which dogs are the best in lead, which work best as wheel dogs, which ones are lazy. 

Sid thanks him and Geno grins at him, wide and warm and Sid feels like he made the right choice.

The first day is long and exhausting and when the evening comes, Sid’s arms and legs feel like rubber. His throat is sore from talking and his lips are cracked. All the dogs are rubbed down and fed and taken care of. All he wants to do is go sleep forever. 

Geno catches him though and grabs Sid’s arm. “Come. Have to eat.”

Sid wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “I would rather get some sleep.”

“Have to eat,” Geno insists. “Can’t take care of dogs if don’t take care of self. Food is first. Then sleep.”

Geno shoves him into the meal tent and Sid meets the rest of the mushers and handlers. There’s only thirty people on the glacier at any given time, thirty people, two hundred dogs, and an ever-changing landscape of ice. It probably won’t hurt to listen to Geno and eat. 

A few days later, Geno’s sitting next to him as Sid repairs a harness and Geno’s sipping tea from a thermos. It’s as quiet as it gets on the glacier, dogs are barking, people are talking. 

“Want my own team someday,” Geno says after a while. “Don’t really like this.”

Sid looks over at him and nods. “Yeah, I want to race.”

“My family think I’m crazy,” Geno laughs, shaking his head. “They say, spend all my time with dogs. Like cold too much. Never go home to Russia again.”

“You can run dogs in Russia,” Sid points out, smoothing the harness before putting it aside. 

Geno sips his tea. “Can. Could never be in love in Russia so I stay in US or Canada. They understand that, just not dogs.”

“Oh,” Sid looks at his knees. He wiggles his toes inside of his boots. They’re warm and cozy. He gently knocks his shoulder into Geno’s, layer upon layer. “Same. But my parents understand about the dogs.”

 

Sid’s a writer as well as a musher and he spends his post-chore time working on an article for Outdoor Life and updating Twitter. He hates social media, but Geno convinced him that it’s a necessary evil. They have a ton of followers and they use Patreon to help defray costs to keep the team running. 

People love the dogs and they love Geno so Sid mostly films them and talks about things that they do. He’s honest about the less than savory parts of their life, from picking up shit to chopping up raw meat. He posts video of Geno handing out beaver tails to the dogs after a long run. 

On their 4th wedding anniversary, Sid posted a picture of them from the glacier, young and smiling, both of them with goggle tans and squinting from the glare off the ice, Geno’s arm slung over Sid’s shoulders. He’d captioned it with Happy Anniversary, Zhenya. Both he and Geno had lost hundreds of followers, gained hundreds more, received lots of hate and made it to twitter moments. 

That’s kind of why Sid hates social media, but he continues to use it. Mostly he’s annoyed because he wrote a book and it’s not like he danced around the issue of Geno. He wrote about their wedding in the book. It’s a damn good book too.

Geno posts a video from the trail, the dogs running and Geno narrating what is going on, breathing heavily, but happy at the same time. Sid watches and then reposts. Callie, their only indoor cat, climbs into his lap and curls up for a nap. He strokes her with one hand as he goes over his lists for the Canadian Challenge. 

Geno’s got to do this one alone since he’s using it as a qualifier for the Iditarod. No help at checkpoints, all care by the musher only. Sid can’t do anything to help once the race starts. He can prepare everything ahead of time though. Mostly he’s worried about Geno’s feet. His boots are good, but the temperatures in Saskatchewan can get down to -40. 

He’s browsing arctic gear and listening to a podcast about the mating habits of elk when the phone rings. It startles Callie and she takes off, leaving Sid’s lap in a burst of fluff. 

It’s Geno and Sid answers with a grin, “Hey babe.”

“Just watched Ovi shit on Shannon while we run and made me think of you.”

Sid laughs loudly and leans back in his chair. “You say the cutest things.”

“At least he not stop team to shit. Can’t talk long. Love you.”

“Love you too. Tell Shannon I’m sorry she got shit on.”

Geno doesn’t say goodbye. He never does. It’s been a rule they’ve had since that first summer on the glacier. No goodbyes. They hadn’t even been together after the first summer on the glacier and they had sworn that no goodbyes was the way to go. It works for them.

Callie slinks back over, looking put out. She climbs back into Sid’s lap and he starts to pet her again. He’s got another 500 words to write and a pair of boots to buy before lunch. 

 

It takes them five years to buy their farm. Sid finishes school and writes a book. They work on the glacier every summer and spend too much time apart during the fall and winter, working for different mushers and volunteering at different races. They both work the Iditarod twice, but only see each other when it is over. They get married and argue about what they’re going to name their racing team. 

The farm is in northern Ontario, far enough away from everything that Sid can breathe. They’re not ready for dogs right away, no matter how much they want them. They still get them faster than expected. Another musher has an unplanned litter and offers all five pups to them. 

They know Cari from the glacier and the dogs’ line is good so they say yes. Geno builds dog houses and Sid drives across Manitoba to pick up the puppies when they’re ready to be weaned. They’re all adorable balls of fluff, climbing all over each other and running around the yard. 

When he gets them home, they sit in the yard with their puppies running around. Sid leans against Geno’s side, watching them happily. One of the puppies comes running over, tripping over his feet and tumbling into Geno’s lap. Geno picks him up, shaking him gently before cradling him against his belly. 

“So this forwards, goalies, or defense?”

“Goalies,” Sid says easily. “These are definitely goalies.”

Geno rubs the puppy’s belly lightly. “Who this then?”

“The girls are Manon and Shannon for sure. Boys are Flower, Marty, and Vlad.”

“Welcome home, Vlad,” Geno says, leaning over to press a kiss to the puppy’s forehead. Vlad wiggles away and romps back over to where his brothers and sisters are playing. Geno pulls Sid close again and kisses him softly. “Thanks, Sid.”

Sid breathes against Geno’s lips, smiling. “Thanks, Geno.”

 

Geno gets home late at night, Manon still singing to announce they’ve arrived. Sid’s waiting for them, stew warm on the stove for Geno and warm meat and kibble for the dogs in their bowls. Geno’s fingers are stiff as they work to unclip all the dogs and get them rubbed down and stretched out. 

Sid checks Shannon over well for any lingering shit, but all of it is gone thankfully. She licks his face as he massages her paws with ointment. All of the dogs are tired, but they eat and settle into their houses comfortably. Sid gets the sled put away, sending Geno into the house to warm up. 

All of Geno’s gear is in a pile by the door, stripped off and left there. Sid rolls his eyes. He could leave it if he wanted. Geno would take care of it after showering and eating, but Sid shakes out the parka and hangs it up. The snow pants and gloves are next. He inspects all the gear at the same time, making sure it still in good shape. Boots are last and he pays close attention to the soles before setting them aside. 

The shower is running when he gets upstairs to the bathroom. He slides in, leaving his clothes in a pile next to Geno’s. The water isn’t warm yet, still lukewarm to make sure Geno doesn’t accidentally burn himself. 

“Hey,” Sid says, stepping into the shower. Geno’s leaning against the wall, eyes half-closed as the water runs over his side. Sid pulls him upright and gets him under the spray. “Everything still attached?”

Geno grunts in affirmation and lets Sid move him around until he’s pink and warm. He kisses Sid slowly, hands resting on Sid’s lower back. Geno’s stomach finally interrupts them, loud over the running water. 

Geno laughs against Sid’s lips. “Sorry.”

They eat dinner on the couch with a hockey game on, Edmonton is losing to Boston. They paid too much money to Connor McDavid and Leon Draisaitl and now they can’t put a team around them. 

Callie begs stew from Geno and he gives it to her, crooning softly in Russian to her about how she’s such a good cat. She’s his baby, the only one he spoils since it’s a bad idea to spoil sled dogs. 

“If the dogs could see you now,” Sid murmurs as Callie laps stew from Geno’s spoon.

“She’s starving,” Geno says, rubbing behind Callie’s ears. “Look how skinny.”

Callie is decidedly not skinny and hasn’t been since she was a stray kitten Geno found when out on a run with the dogs. Sid runs a hand over Callie’s pooch and gives Geno a look. 

“So skinny.”

Geno pouts and Sid laughs, leaning up to kiss him. “Make sure to eat enough. If you don’t eat, you can’t take care of the dogs.”

“Always take care of me,” Geno says fondly and pulls Sid close. “Always take care of dogs too.”

Sid squirms closer, careful not to dislodge either of their bowls or Callie. The house is warm and his belly is full of stew. It’s dark outside and cold. The dogs are sleeping comfortably in their houses and tomorrow they’ll go on another run with Geno. 

There’s nowhere else Sid would rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the sidgeno fluff fest prompt of puppies on tumblr. I'm obsessed with Blair Braverman and her husband Quince Mountain on Twitter these days. They post about mushing, lots of adorable dog pics, and are LGBTQ themselves. Her book, Welcome to the Goddamn Ice Cube, is available on Amazon and is a wonderful read. 
> 
> Thanks, as always, go to dine for reading this over before posting.


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